The theme for last summer’s family vacation was surfing. The plan was for our four-person clan to take an introductory lesson and, hopefully, learn enough so we could rent boards and get down to carving waves all on our own.

Because surfing exudes an inherent coolness, the idea was popular, but tinged with apprehension. Our boys, ages 7 and 10, worried whether they would be able to do it. My wife worried she was going to get injured like the last time we tried a decade ago, when an afternoon of clumsy but enjoyable small-wave surfing on our honeymoon in Costa Rica left her with a nasty backside bruise inflicted by her board. I worried a repeat could lead to a messy divorce leaving me with full custody of the children.

We wanted a spot where the water was warm and the surf gentle, within reasonable driving distance from Montreal. We chose Wrightsville Beach in North Carolina, where the gradually sloping coastline creates long, low rolling waves well suited for beginners. Seven kilometres long, Wrightsville Beach’s white sand stretch is bordered by grassy dunes and attractive beach rental cottages. Water temperatures hovered around a balmy 26 C.

The surf holiday got off to an inauspicious start. Driving there took 18 hours split over two days. After arriving and setting up at our immaculate KOA campsite, where I had sent an email request for a shady spot “because my wife is convinced she’s going to bake to death in our tent,” we hurried to check out the beach.

After 45 minutes of joyous frolicking in the sun-soaked surf (without surfboards), we heard wailing and turned to see our eldest hunched over, a torrent of blood cascading down his face. A wave had bashed him face-first into the sand, causing his nose to swell so quickly we worried it was broken. We spent the next day checking for signs of concussion and debating a hospital visit. His enthusiasm for surfing, like his nose, had taken a serious hit.

Returning to the campsite at dusk, it was still hot and steamy, and our shady spot next to the forest turned out to be a mosquito breeding ground. Smaller than their northern brethren, they made up for their physical deficiencies by attacking in tight packs, like wolves.

My wife was threatening a move to the (much more costly) Holiday Inn. Matthew looked like he had insulted Mike Tyson’s honour. Despite the torrid heat, our surfing holiday was skating on thin ice.

It was saved by our enthusiastic surfing instructors, a marketing student named Jordan in his early 20s, and a middle age, junior-high professor named Tim, who discovered his passion for surfing later in life. Our private family lesson (two hours for the adults, three for the boys, total $400) began with a half-hour orientation and safety session on the sand.

We learned what types of dangerous sea life exist in our stretch of the Atlantic (none — the jellyfish that made a nuisance of themselves in recent years had disappeared because the water was cooler; the local variety of sharks is small and uninterested in eating humans). We learned how rip currents are formed, and what to do if you’re stuck in one (let it carry you out about 10 metres then swim to the side and back in; don’t swim directly against it).

We were taught the technique for “popping up”: moving from a prone position on the board to standing in a low crouch in one smooth motion to catch a wave. We learned how to make a head cage, wrapping your arms around your head to protect it from the lumbering nine-foot board attached with a leash to your ankle that can recoil quickly as you tumble in the surf.

Then it was time to head to the waves. Standing in chest-high water, the instructors took one student at a time and watched for a decent swell. When the right one rolled in, they pushed the board out to hit the same speed as the wave, then yelled “Pop up” at the right moment to catch the forward momentum of the surf and ride the small waves straight into shore. At this stage, there is no thought of carving turns — just staying upright.

On first attempts, there were nosedives or stumbles off the side. But as we learned where to position ourselves on the stable soft-top boards, everyone was able to get into a standing position and ride the waves to shore a few times each.

It feels a bit like skiing or snowboarding, except on a hill made of water that is moving forward quickly. Thrilling and slightly nerve-racking, it produced wide smiles for surfer and watcher every time someone caught a wave. We would spend three hours taking turns catching, or trying to catch, waves and riding them in. We finished our lessons sore, tired and elated, and treated ourselves to a celebratory feast at Olive Garden.

Surfing during lessons and doing it on your own, however, are two very different beasts.

On the first day of trying it solo on rented boards, it was so windy the waves were choppy and dangerous and we gave up. On following days, we found popping up is much easier with a pro picking out the right wave and pushing at the right time, and we did not catch many. More practice will be required.

In our case, everyone was happy to have attempted it, and to be able to say we caught a few waves. In between beach time, we visited the excellent Cape Fear Serpentarium in nearby Wilmington, home to many of the world’s deadliest snakes, many of which have bitten the owner, who is still alive and describes in excruciating detail what the experience is like.

And my wife solved the mosquito and heat problem by insisting we move to a less forested spot, with electrical hookup. A large fan purchased at Home Hardware blew away the mosquitoes and kept us comfortably cool in the tent at night. Crisis, and Holiday Inn, averted.

IF YOU GO

We took lessons with the Surf Camp at Wrightsville Beach, one of the longest established of many surf schools available in the area. It offers a variety of programs, from two-hour private introductory lessons to weeklong surf camps for kids. Visit www.wbsurfcamp.com, or Google “surfing lessons in North Carolina” to find schools. Wrightsville Beach is only one of many areas along the North Carolina coast that offers surfing. The Outer Banks also has several spots. Renting boards costs $17 to $40 a day per board.

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